


[act i.] running from the dawn.

by asthepoetssay (badaltin)



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Enemies to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gang Violence, Long Shot, M/M, Reincarnation, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badaltin/pseuds/asthepoetssay
Summary: It took a long fucking time, no doubt about it. It happened in-between midnight raids to one of Paris's female escort clubs. After delivering the bribery to the god-like city officials. Before meetings with the other Achaeans. Planning their escape was tricky, but they managed to make it into the anonymity of the countryside.
In their newfound paradise, the two men discover within themselves a capacity for honest and unbridled tenderness. Love grows, and blossoms sweetly between them. Patroclus spends entire days with his hand in Achilles's, never apart for more than two minutes. He found happiness in the golden boy that went to bed with him every night.
.
By surviving Troy, Patroclus and Achilles spat in the face of destiny. And not a single one of their universes appreciated the blatant breaking of the pattern.
Consequences will arise, sure as Patroclus knew the shape of Achilles's throat beneath his lips. Reparations to pay, timelines to amend -
and it all starts with Hector.
---
[reboot of previous work of the same name]





	

**Author's Note:**

> We're in it for the long haul, guys. I originally posted this story last December, about five days after first reading The Song of Achilles. I put it aside after realizing how quickly I jumped its bones, and after a thoughtful amount of time, I came back to it. Let's see where it takes us, and hold the fuck on to your butts 'cause we're not stopping this train.
> 
> Haven't made an update schedule yet, but at the veeeery most, new chapters will come every two weeks. I'm not a patient person, god help me, and I'm all about that instant gratification. 
> 
> Enjoy, my dudes.

April was peeking around the corner when they found a place of their own. Patroclus took over directing much of the move; the little work left to Achilles and Chiron involved deciding which furniture they would use or put into storage. Patroclus found the house. He settled the deal. He talked with the handyman for renovation advice. He payed for the transportation and the silence of their transporters.

 

He didn't mind doing most of the work, to be honest. He liked it, seeing as how it gave him a job to do and made him feel useful.

 

A day after the delivery trucks dropped off their belongings, a little brown taxi drove Achilles and Patroclus into town. The car pulled off the side of the road, where a hidden driveway tapered into a dirt path. According to the previous owner, it had once been a trail farmers used to move their cattle from pasture to pasture. Patroclus and Achilles snagged their carry-on bags, and walked with the ghosts of cows.

 

Achilles waved goodbye to the taxi and led the way into the wooded lot. “What's got you smiling?” he asked, looking over his shoulder with one of his gleeful smiles. Shadows of leaves passed over his golden skin in a flash of dark color. His eyes shared the color of the foliage they hiked beneath, yet were indisputably livelier. They twinkled in a silent dare; Patroclus took the plunge.

 

“I'm just glad to be here.” Conversation between them breathed. Inhale. Patroclus. Exhale. Achilles.

 

Achilles turned back around, humming a kind tune. He walked like a dance, limbs pulled forward by some fighting desire to conquer life. It was elegant in its purity. Patroclus could never hope to have that level of grace, but basking in Achilles's was enough for him.

 

Sweat gathered at Patroclus's palms and his back. A gentle breeze picked up. In breaks in the canopy, they'd catch glimpses of cumulus clouds strung low in a sea of forget-me-not sky.

 

The treeline came into view, and then their path opened up onto the clearing. It had an antique atmosphere, where time slipped along itself in a dewy molasses manner. Patroclus remembered two kids adventuring in a similar forest, protected from adults and homework and supper. He could almost see them swatting at the misplaced telephone pole with sticks. It glowed golden like everything else in the space between the trees.

The house itself was small, previously owned by a former farmworker's family. Two bedrooms and one-point-five baths, they told the two men. The porch curved down to kiss the grass, and the windows were dirty, but the place still had the bearings of a home.

Patroclus's glee slipped into considerate wonder; he could feel Achilles react the same way.

They stepped into the house.

.

Patroclus set aside one of the few remaining moving boxes, and began to set three places at the table. Evening soaked in through the open window as a honeyed shade of lavender, and it carried the humble scent of temperate dusk. Chiron sat at the head of the petite table, a patient guest as Patroclus went about readying for dinner.

“How have you been feeling, Patroclus?” the old man asked. Patroclus set down the final plate, and moved to sit next to his mentor.

“I've been fine, I guess. Nothing I can't handle.” Stoic as always.

Chiron's gaze was non-judgmental, but nonetheless penetrating.

“Just a few nightmares, like you said. Like you, uh, said might happen. You know?” Patroclus straightened the mat beneath his utensils. “How have things been at your end?”

“Good.”

The door creaked on its hinges when Achilles burst through it too quickly.

“Got take-out!” he declared with pride, depositing the slightly-soggy boxes opposite the two other men. Achilles dealt out food, and without further pause, dug in.

“Hey, look.” He held out a fortune cookie before Patroclus with one of his secret smiles. “Maybe we'll have better luck this time around, huh?”

Patroclus shared his expression, and with long fingers he split the cookie in half. His expression went from pleased to confused as he pulled the slip of paper from the confines of the dough.

“Is that Greek?”

Achilles squinted. “Yeah,think so.”

“Can you read it?”

Achilles took the paper in his hand, and the lines at his brown deepened. “Nah. I don't remember much from my dad, and none of it is like this?”

“Let me see it.” Chiron's voice rumbled in the wood of the table, and he reached over. “Must be someone pulling a prank or fooling around with the keyboard. I suppose it doesn't matter.” The old man folded the paper and stuck it in his wallet.

After dinner, they retired to the parlor. Achilles cleared off a few boxes from the love seat and the armchair to make room for them all. The mismatched furniture in the room added to a cozy atmosphere.

“Do you plan to fix that?” Chiron gestured to the grandfather clock presiding over the three men.

“Yes, once we figure out how,” Patroclus said.

“Do you have a toolbox?” Chiron asked, and walked to where Achilles pointed. He bent down, back bent like a horse, and led the men to the clock.

They filled the next few hours with quiet instruction from Chiron, guiding Achilles and Patroclus to tighten the screws and remove pins for examination. The two young adults settled into the lesson, absorbing everything with the same eagerness as unfed soil to water.

A click, and the pendulum began to sway from left to right to left again. Achilles looked up with undisguised pleasure, and caught Patroclus's eye from across the floor. They beamed at each other, and helped lift the lengthy structure back to an upright position.

Dusting off his knees, Patroclus peeked behind Chiron and saw that darkness had fallen beyond the window.

“I think I will take my leave now,” their mentor said. “But before I go, here's a word of advice: be wise with your money.” He looked pointedly at Achilles, who remained impassive. “Don't draw unnecessary attention to yourselves.”

Patroclus smiled, and shook Chiron's hand. “Thanks for coming, Chiron. Do you need help getting back to the road? It's pretty dark out there.”

“I think I will manage. Have a goodnight, you two.” Chiron dipped his head once and left through the front door, his figure disappearing into the darkness of the trees. The evening was a heavy purple by this time, and they knew it was time to sleep.

.

Patroclus leaned over the side of the bed, air forced through his teeth and cheeks in a frenzied wheezing fit. Blood surged in his fingertips and ears and neck; a sound like a train rocketing over a bridge consumed him. His room was pitch, but Patroclus could feel the static filling his eyes as a spotted film.

He leaned back up into a sitting position, hands flying beneath his shirt to his stomach – and meeting smooth, untouched skin. A sigh whistled through his nose. Patroclus grabbed his phone with slower movements and used the light to examine his torso. He found nothing but his dark skin, curling hairs that ran around his navel to disappear below his waistband, and the discolored birthmark stark against the brown.

Well. He was certainly awake, now.

The man checked his phone once more, eyes stinging at the brightness, to check the time. After a dissatisfied whine, Patroclus rubbed the heels of his palms into his eye-sockets and pushed up off the bed.

The floor gasped softly as he arrived at the top of the staircase. He peeked over his shoulder to see if Achilles heard and was coming to check on him, but didn't see or hear him. The door to Achilles's room was locked as always. It stared back at Patroclus.

He blinked his round owl eyes, and slunk down the steps. Picking a thin windbreaker and stepping into a pair of shallow communal sandals, Patroclus slipped into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I lost contact with my beta, and I had to use a free editing software in lieu of an actual human being. If you see anything peculiar, let me know.
> 
> Speaking of which, I'd reeeeaaally appreciate for you to leave kudos if you enjoyed. I'm very receptive to criticism/praise/hate, so if you had any opinion on this piece what-so-ever, comment. It'll make my writing better, and therefore improve your reading experience.
> 
> Alright, enough chatter. Thanks for reading!


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